The Book Of Gregory House
by Jackyblu
Summary: House is having trouble finding something to write in his journal as part of his therapy. Will a conversation with Wilson help clear his block? One-shot ficlet.


The Book Of Gregory (House)

By Jackyblu

House sat on the couch leaning over the coffee table a pen in his hand. He rubbed his eyes and picked up the glass of bourbon. He took a drink and set the pen down.

"This is a waste of time. I have no idea what to write."

Wilson came out of their kitchen the dishtowel in his hand.

"You write about your day, your feelings your fears and concerns…"

"My sex life?"

Wilson returned to the kitchen.

"What sex life?" He called from the other room.

House hollered back.

"I have a sex life! Why do you think I borrowed $500 from you Monday?"

Wilson popped back into the living room. "Whoa. You borrowed money to hire a _hooker_?

House shrugged. "You should have seen her. It was money well spent."

"It was MY money well spent. Wait! She was here? Why don't I remember this?

"You were having a beer…"

"You drugged me again!" His face flushed with anger.

"I needed some privacy to entertain my guest, or visa-versa."

"Oh this is going too far even for you. Damn it House…

"I didn't drug you. You weren't here. It was your night to be on call."

House rolled his eyes with a 'how can you be so gullible' look on his face.

Wilson hated when House did this. He got Wilson angry or concerned and then told him that he was kidding.

"I hate you, you know."

"Yup. What's for dinner?" House drained his glass then held it up and pointed at it. "Do I have time for another of these?"

Wilson exhaled through his nose and shook his head. "Yeah. Dinner will take another thirty minutes."

"What did you make? It smells like Chicken Mole."

"That's two things you're good at; sniffing out money and food." Wilson returned to the kitchen.

"I'm part blood hound on my mother's side twice removed."

House stared at page one of the blank journal. Then he wrote, 'Told Wilson why I borrowed $500 from him. She was very good. Conned him into thinking I drugged him. He is so naïve. Excellent cook though.'

House got off the couch and went into the kitchen to pour himself another bourbon.

Wilson was making a salad for tonight. He cut up lots of different vegetables and nothing leafy. No lettuce, radicchio or spinach. House leaned against the counter sipping his drink and watching Wilson.

Wilson didn't spare House a glance.

"This isn't going to get your journal written. You know Dr. Nolan wants to see that you're writing in it every day."

" I'm doing some research."

Wilson turned his head and looked at him. "Research? By staring at me?"

"Well I wrote about our relationship. How you cook for me and _other things_," he winked at Wilson.

"That's great. Writing about our close relationship already," Wilson teased. "Get me a tomato out of the fridge honey."

He went back to cutting vegetables.

House limped to the refrigerator and took out a tomato. He fought the desire to throw it at Wilson's back. They only had one and it was needed in the salad.

"House, don't even think about it."

"You make it very hard for me to reign in these impulses."

Wilson smiled his back still to House.

House limped over to Wilson and gave him the tomato.

"Thank you. Set the table sweet cheeks."

"I hate you, you know," House said narrowing his eyes.

"Yup. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes. Dishes are in the washer."

House opened the dishwasher and pulled out two plates, two forks and two knives He set them on the table.

"There, all set."

"Don't forget the napkins baby,"

"Stop that." House growled.

"You want to end our relationship? I may cry." Wilson sniffed tossing the salad.

"You are _so_ begging for retribution."

"Oh I am _so _scared." Wilson said shaking his hands in front of him.

"You will be young Jedi. I strike at night. I show no mercy."

"Get the napkins." Wilson replied pulling the Chicken Mole from the oven.

"Good thing you're a great cook. Or I would have been _totally_ looking at Chase."

"He was spoken for." Wilson set the dish on the table.

"Cameron avoided him. Your Mole is hot. Their marriage cooled."

"At least they went out with a bang."

House winced and sat down. Wilson brought over the salad, dressing and two beers from the fridge.

"He did drop a big bomb on her. I can't imagine what any of my wives would have said if I told them I had deliberately killed a patient."

Wilson sat down and opened his beer.

"It was for the greater good," House answered dishing himself some Mole. "And you did kill a patient," he pointed out opening his beer.

"He was slowly dying and in terrible pain. I couldn't let that happen." Wilson said quietly taking a sip of his beer.

House put salad on his plate.

"Dibala was committing genocide. Chase was faced with a moral dilemma."

"Which is why there is the Hippocratic oath we all take."

House took the first bite of the chicken. It was very good.

"Oh the _hypocrite oath._"

House stared at his salad lost in thought for a moment. He took another drink of his beer and then focused on Wilson.

"Let's say you were the doctor when Hitler…"

Wilson moaned. "Can't we just eat without an ethical debate?"

House talked over him.

"...is brought to you very ill. Knowing what he's doing and is capable of, would you have any problem with him dying?"

"If Hitler were my patient and had died I would have danced in the streets. My grandfather has a number tattooed on his arm. I am more than qualified to decide Hitler's fate."

"That's my point. Good bye Hippocratic oath." House drank some more beer.

Wilson pointed at House with his fork. "Are you saying you'd have let Hitler live?"

"He wasn't my patient."

"Oh. Oh. That's great. You pose a moral question but won't involve yourself," Wilson laughed snidely

"Well I wouldn't have taken Hitler as my patient in the first place."

"What if he came to you? Doctor Haus. I am wanting you to stop what is kill-ink me," Wilson said in a cheesy German accent.

"Nope."

"And why is this?"

"This is 2010. You're already dead. A little party you and fraulein Braun threw yourselves in a bunker, remember?"

Wilson snarled, "This is so typical of you. You change the rules of debate so you never get your hands dirty."

"And you're just now figuring that out? How long have we known each other?"

Instead of plunging into the deep end of House's logic Wilson changes the subject.

"So Chase killed Hitler…"

"Dibala," House corrected his mouth full of food.

"Whoever. Now he is concerned for the consequences."

"Yep. The boy is afraid he'll fry."

"In hell?" Wilson asked taking a drink of beer.

House shrugged.

"The state of New Jersey hasn't smoked anyone since the early 1900s. So yeah, in hell."

"There is no hell."

"Sure there is. It's in the mind of the guy with the guilt." House looked pointedly at Wilson. "Oh that's right. You're Jewish so there is no hell except Cuddy once a month."

Wilson winced. He had another bite of Mole before continuing.

"You can't compare me to Chase. I eased a man's suffering. Chase committed murder."

House put a little more of the Mole on his plate.

"That is a very thin line Jimmy. Dead is dead. "

"My patient was dying and in terrible pain."

House adopted a wretched face.

"Officer he was already dying I just _pushed_ him over the edge."

"Wilson shook his head. Leave it to you to make it seem so…"

"Immoral? I think you've already passed 'go' on that."

"What's immoral about saving someone terrible pain?"

"Gosh, if only I had known you earlier when my pain was unbearable. Wait, I did know you. You're the guy that tried to take Vicodin from me, twice."

Wilson stuck his hand out across the table. "James Wilson. Damn glad to meet ya."

"Ah an 'Animal House' reference. Nice."

"You know where I stand on euthanasia. You read my speech. Hell you gave it!"

House waved his hand in a 'think nothing of it' gesture.

"It was in my briefcase."

"Which wasn't locked."

"Because you broke it."

"You took my monster truck magazine."

"We were at a lecture."

"Hey I can multi-task. Right now I am eating and listening to you. More of the former than the latter actually."

"Getting back to Chase. Do you think Cameron over-reacted?"

House drank more beer.

"She left him. She was bound to. Her moral compass is like my dad's. She couldn't forgive him."

"She couldn't help a patient die. Good for her."

"I thought you believed in euthanasia," House said.

"There's a difference."

"In what world do you get to condemn the very thing you've done yourself?"

"We both have done it. Remember vegetative state guy?"

"Yes and I remember Ezra Powell too. Cameron set him free."

Wilson looked up in surprise "Cameron? You said it was you."

"I lied. I'm trying to make a point. I've done it, you've done it, we've all done it."

"Every doctor kills a patient deliberately?"

House snorted in mild irritation

"There _are_ exceptions; doctors who are quick to condemn. When _they_ lose a patient they put the blame squarely on God."

"You don't believe in God."

"I take ownership of my mistakes," House stated firmly.

"Vegetative state guy. You showed him how to kill himself," Wilson retorted.

"I simply gave him some medical facts. How he chose to use them…." House paused**.** "I know I have. What I'm wondering is how you can condemn Chase."

"I'm not condemning him." Wilson avoided House's eyes.

"Then you would have done the same thing."

"Of course I wouldn't!"

"So Hitler…"

"Would you stop already with Hitler. Please."

"Okay fine. You quit and I win by default. Whose fault? You're fault." House speared his chicken in triumph. "Snap!"

"Okay fine. You win. Can we please eat dinner in peace now?"

"Fine." House said.

"Fine." Wilson repeated.

House crunched salad not taking his eyes off Wilson.

Wilson cracked, as House knew he would. His curiosity got the better of him.

He looked pointedly at House.

"Who else knows about this?"

"Foreman. Knows, you, me, and now Cameron. Cuddy has no idea, yet. When she finds out the stuff inside her daughter's diapers will hit the fan."

"Thanks for the visual with dinner." Wilson set his fork down.

"No problem." House took the last bite of his salad.

"You set up this whole conversation didn't you?" Wilson said. He looked like a kid suspicious about the tooth fairy.

"Yep."

Wilson narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. "This was just so you could find something to write in your journal."

"Yep again."

"Jeez House."

"I know what you're thinking." House eyed Wilson. "But Nolan is a doctor and patient confidentiality applies here."

"And this is all you can come up with to write in your journal?"

"Everything else is boring."

Wilson threw up his hands.

"Terrific. Give him a little Stephen King while you're at it. Maybe our dead patients come back for revenge."

"You think it would read better? A little drama some terror…"

Wilson sighed and began to clear the table.

"I'll wash and you dry."

"I have to write in my journal," House complained.

"You can do your homework after you dry the dishes."

"If I get an 'F' it's your fault." House picked up the dishtowel. "Can we talk about my allowance?"

"You spent your allowance for the rest of this year. $500 remember? Not my fault you spent it all in one place"

House leaned over and spoke in Wilson's ear. "Yeah, but you should have seen her."


End file.
